Fics like bruises are back in style

But she felt her face burning. And his face was dark, too, probably from shock or exertion, but it still struck her, almost as much as the the ghost of his tears. She twisted her mouth in indignation. She was supposed to be a feared necromancer, a vicious soldier in this ritualistic battle, not some dumb teenage girl with a dumb teenage girl bleeding heart. Even if how Apollo currently looked was totally, infuriatingly satisfying. Open, exposed, raw, finally knocked down from that high, gilded throne, someone she could actually level with, someone whose blood she could mix with her own. Apollo opened his mouth. But nothing came out, just ragged breaths. His hand, the one not holding his rapier, knuckles bruised purple and palms damp with sweat, raised to grab her hip. It was tense, as though preparing to push her off or to dig in his claws. She made a frustrated sound. Oh, for fuck's sake. - Graves phantom strikes Apollo mid-ritual. It all devolves from there--and then, somehow, gets better.

Fics like bruises are back in style

You may also like